


Wolves in the Dark

by SorchaCahill



Series: Songs of Light and Dark [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Character Death, Death, Gen, Law and Order - Freeform, Mild to Moderate Cursing, Referenced Alcoholism, criminal activity, no one likes Orlais, rated M for violence, somewhat AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 09:33:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1600043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SorchaCahill/pseuds/SorchaCahill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chief Constable Aidan of Amaranthine is in charge of Amaranthine's safety but the Blight has left many scars and the Orlesian Warden-Commander isn't helping. Every city has its challenges but with the increase of Blight refugees and increasing violence on the streets its hard to maintain law and order. To make matters worse a smuggling ring has put a stranglehold on the city's commerce and despite his and the Guard's best efforts they have been unsuccessful in breaking the ring. Aidan wants nothing more than to keep his city safe so when an offer of help comes from an unexpected source he's willing to bend the rules to accept it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the 2014 Dragon Age Big Bang. mygoodrabbit on tumblr did an amazing piece for it. Thank you to [mygoodrabbit](http://mygoodrabbit.tumblr.com/) for creating [awesome cover art](http://mygoodrabbit.tumblr.com/post/85428359269)!

Chief Constable Aidan Bronwell sat in his office staring blindly at the reports his guards had submitted. In his tenure as Chief Constable of Amaranthine he had never received so many reports of robbery, assaults, drunken brawls, and general mischief; it was like he was in Denerim, not Amaranthine. And now he was faced with a new problem. A smuggling ring had damn near taken over the city, cutting off legal trade and making the citizenry's lives all that more miserable. He was at a loss at how to deal with it, having investigated every lead and come up with nothing. The city's merchants were losing their patience and it was only a matter of time before they called for his retirement.

He was only one man and had a guard complement of fifty men and women and they couldn't be everywhere at once. Part of the problem was the he had a mere handful of investigators and all were overworked, pressed to the breaking point. And to add salt to the wound, there were the Blight Orphans, or so they called themselves, causing mischief all over Amaranthine. He knew they worked out of Crown and Lion but damn him if he couldn't track down the little bastards.

The Blight may be over and the Archdemon slain but the after effects were wide and would last decades. Amaranthine hadn't been hit as hard by the darkspawn horde as the lands to the south but its people still suffered. Refugees poured into the city each day and each day he had less resources to aid them. He was doing the work of two people, only one of which he had been hired to do. If that fucking Orlesian would just do what the king had placed him here to do Aidan wouldn't have half the problems he had. Or at least he hoped so. 

Aidan slumped back in his chair, pressing his fingers to the bridge between his eyes, fighting the urge for a drink. He had been sober for nigh on five years now and he'd be damned if he was going to let these criminals push him down that black hole. It was tempting, so very tempting, and that was the evil of the thing.

With his head resting against the back of his chair he stared at the cracked ceiling above him. Like many things in Amaranthine, the Constabulary was beginning to show its age.

Sighing, he sat up and opened the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a small pouch of pipeweed and his pipe. He had given up drinking but that didn't mean he didn't have other vices, and as far as smoking went, well, he'd take that over passing out blind drunk every night.

Arianna had hated his habit, said the smell stunk up her house and had refused to let him smoke inside. He had given way on that, willing to do whatever it took to make her happy. The pipeweed calmed him and helped him to think, and, as stupid as it sounded, made him feel closer to his Arianna. 

He packed in the pipeweed, noting that he was running low. It was the last of the Lothering Leaf and it wasn't likely that there would be more for decades to come, if ever. Lighting the pipe, he watched as the smoke curled up from the pipe bowl and he inhaled its woody scent. 

Five minutes, he thought. He just needed five minutes of not looking at reports and worrying about the situation in Amaranthine. 

"They say that stuff will kill you." 

Aidan choked on the smoke, near falling out of his chair as he sat up, his eyes darting around the room. Though it was close to sunset and his office fairly well lit, he could not find the owner of the voice. 

"Who's there?" he demanded. "How did you get in here?" 

"A friend. And as to how I got in here, I don't supposed you would be believe it was by magic?" 

"A mage?" 

"Ah, no, not a mage but I have other skills, which is why I am here." 

Aidan sat back, his pipe still in hand. He still couldn't locate the owner of the voice. It came from no one location. Dammit, his office wasn't that big, he should be able to see the bastard. 

"Skills?" he scoffed. "What kind of skills are you offering?" 

"The kind that you desperately need Chief Constable. You are stretched thin and this city needs help. You're not likely to get it from the Warden-Commander." 

Aidan snorted. The intruder wasn't wrong about that. Orlais had sent a them a new Warden-Commander to take over after Warden Lessa Mahariel had sacrificed her life for Ferelden. This Warden-Commander was more concerned about his own affairs and not that of Amaranthine's despite the fact that Amaranthine fell under his rule. Aidan had asked for help with the smugglers but the Orlesian had brushed him off, told him that he didn't have time to deal with 'the petty concerns of a city guard.' Aidan had bristled at that and it had taken considerable effort to not lay out the man flat on his back.

"That man cares only about killing darkspawn and cares nothing for what they leave in their wake."

"That is true enough and hence my reason for coming to you."

"Why would you want to help me? What's in it for you?"

The voice paused briefly and when he spoke again there was a hardness there that made the hairs on the back of Aidan's neck raise.

"This was a great city once and I believe it still can be. I will not let it fall to thieves and apathy. As for what's in it for me? Well, that's my business but rest assured you have my aid, if you want it." 

Aidan frowned, torn between two choices: accept this stranger's aid or arrest him for the vigilante he suspected him to be. In the end there was really only one choice he could make. 

"It seems I really have only one choice if I wish to rid the city of those blighted smugglers. I need the merchant's guild happy and trade to flow." 

"You are an honorable man, Chief Constable. I will contact you when I have information." 

"And how much is this information going to cost me?" 

"For you, Chief Constable, nothing. I only fleece arseholes like the Warden-Commander and the occasional noble whose head is stuck too far up his arse. I'll be in touch." 

"Wait-," Aidan protested but before he could say more he could tell that the man was gone and had left just as silently as he had appeared. He pushed away from his desk, striding over to the window but as he suspected, the man had left no trace besides the open window.

“Dammit.”

~~~

The sky was heavy with rain the next day, the clouds seemingly hanging just a few feet above the city's ramparts. Most people found one excuse or another to stay indoors and close to their fires to stay out of the wet and the cold. Aidan found himself patrolling one of the seedier areas of Amaranthine where the streets were always muddy and the faint smell of piss could be smelled everywhere.

"You know this stink is going to take forever to get out of my armor right? Kara hates it when I smell like something that climbed out of a privy." 

Aidan glanced over at his companion. Jayne Tovar had joined the Constabulary about the same time he had and they had both moved up the ranks together, with her now acting as his second in command. She was his closest friend and he knew her well enough to know that she wasn't so much as complaining about the smell as just stating a fact. 

"If you wanted to smell pretty Jayne I suggest a change in careers. Perhaps Octham is hiring. I hear he's trying to sell flowers now that we shut down his moonshine business." 

"The grocer? Are you kidding me? That guy sells all those green things." 

"They're called vegetables Jayne." 

"Whatever. They're green. Food's not supposed to be green." 

Aidan just shook his head. Despite her aversion to vegetables and anything that bordered on serious, Jayne was an excellent Constable and second in command and could always be counted on to lift his spirits. A task she had been hard pressed at when Arianna had died. 

“I got the night report from Percy. There were a couple of incidents with darkspawn encroaching on the city borders. And they’ve not been the first.”

“I’m aware, we’ll have to step up patrols. Maker’s balls, with the Blight over one would think that those creatures would return to the Deep Roads.” Aidan sighed. “One would think that the Warden-Commander with all his insistence on wiping out the darkspawn that we’d see fewer attacks. That doesn’t seem to be the case however.”

“I hesitate to give the man any slack, considering how you feel about him, Aidan, but he can’t be everywhere at once.”

“I recognize that. I just wish there was more evidence of his so-called commitment to eradicating them.”

Silence fell between them as they walked down the street. They were coming upon the market area and while the merchants were out, their wares were sparse. His jaw tightened at the sight, knowing that the smugglers were behind it all. Damn them all to the Void. 

"So," Jayne hummed.

"Is there a question somewhere in there?" 

"Are you going to tell me what's rattling around in that brain of yours? Your face gets all squishy when you're worrying over something. And it’s more than the darkspawn looming around the corner." 

"Squishy?" 

"Yes. Squishy. It’s a word, one that I’m using to describe your face. So what's bothering you, I mean more than the usual bullshit we deal with?"  
Aidan hesitated. Even though Jayne was his best friend he wasn't sure about telling her of his late night visitor. He had a history of frowning upon vigilantism and for him to accept this stranger's help was out of character for him. 

"Hey, seriously though, what's going on? We've been friends long enough for me to know when something is seriously bothering you. Talk to me."  
Instead of directly answering her, Aidan looked out at the city streets. This area hadn't always been like this. He remembered a time when the streets and docks bustled with people and commerce. Being a port city, Amaranthine was a center for trade between Fereldan and the rest of Thedas. Now there were more ships carrying away refugees than goods for trade. 

"You know, I grew up in this city. I've always loved it. Loved its energy and its people. It wasn't always like this. Between Arl Howe's greed and ambition and the Blight the city is a shadow of its former self." 

"I know. I didn't come here until I was nearly eighteen, oh so many years ago, but I do remember," Jayne said softly, her tone serious for once. 

"Look at it now, Jayne. The people are desperate. We get more refugees by the day and have no way to feed or house them. That blighted smuggling ring has put a stranglehold on commerce and the Warden-Commander doesn't give a nug's fart about what happens here unless it affects his goals. Maker curse him." 

"We're doing the best we can with the resources we have Aidan." 

"Are we though? Are we really? Maybe it's time to change our tactics." 

"What do you mean? We're already searching everyone who comes into the city and you've seen how popular that has made us." 

"I'm not talking about increased patrols or tactics out of the rulebook. We're already stretched thin enough as it is and I honestly don't think it will help. I've been made an offer."

"An offer?" Jayne stopped, placing a hand on his arm. "Aidan, you're not thinking of leaving are you?"

"No, I'm not leaving, but I am accepting... unconventional assistance with the smuggling issue."

"Unconventional assistance,” she repeated slowly. "That sounds suspiciously like vigilantism. Aidan, the rules are there for a reason. Without rules we have chaos."

"We already _have_ chaos, Jayne. I'm at a loss at what to do and I was given an offer of help and I'm just desperate enough to take it."

"Who made the offer?"

"I-, I don't know."

"You don't know. How can you not know?"

"He came into my office last night, didn't show his face. But I think his offer was sincere. He wants to help this city; seemed rather put out at the state it's fallen into. He doesn't seem to like the Warden-Commander much either."

"Are you completely mad? You’re going along with some vigilante's plan because he shares your distaste of the Warden-Commander? I can't believe this."

"Will you keep it down? I don't want all of Amaranthine knowing about this. And I didn't agree to any plan as such, just that I would look over any information he found for us."

Jayne pinched the bridge of her nose, a pained look coming over her face. She looked up at him, her face full of concern and worry.

"Is this about Arianna?"

Aidan felt his eye twitch and had to force himself to relax. Arianna had been gone now for over five years and while his grief wasn't as acute, he still missed her every day. Her death had left such a gaping hole in his life that he had felt less than human. He had initially tried to fill it with alcohol, trying to numb the pain, but all that had done was nearly cost him his position in the Constabulary and almost his life as well. Anger had taken over and if Jayne hadn't pulled him out he'd either be dead by now or a permanent guest of the Constabulary rather than running it.

"Maybe a little," he admitted. "But it's more than that. I want, no I need this city to reclaim itself and if that means accepting this vigilante's help? So be it." 

"I sure hope you know what you're doing, Aidan. I mean, I'll help you of course, but I hope you know what you're getting into."

"So do I, Jayne. So do I."


	2. Chapter 2

A week had passed since Aidan's midnight visitor had come and he was beginning to think it was all an elaborate hoax, one most likely perpetrated by those damned Blight Orphans. If, no, _when_ he caught the little bastards he had a cell already picked out for them. He was tired of dealing with the fallout from their pranks. On the surface they were relatively harmless but having the Revered Mother storm into his office, her face still blotchy from the itching powder they had somehow managed to get into her bedclothes, and have her lecture him on the importance of rule and order was not a pleasant experience and one he preferred never to have again. 

It didn't help that the Warden-Commander and his companions strutted through the city harassing anyone who they thought had information regarding their quest to figure out what the darkspawn were up to. The only good thing they had done was root out a handful of apostates and maleficar that had been causing trouble on the city’s south side.

They were an interesting lot, his companions, all with different opinions and none were afraid to voice them, especially the tall blonde man whom Aidan was pretty sure was a mage. Aidan had wondered how they were able to accomplish anything with all the bickering that went on, that was, until he had witnessed the Warden-Commander threatening to send the blonde mage to the Templars. The mix of fear and rage on the mage's face made it clear that it wasn't an empty threat. The Warden-Commander seemed to command with fear, something that in Aidan’s experience usually didn't end well.

He had heard rumors that Rendon Howe's son Nathaniel had been with them but he had never seen the man. Aidan suspected that he was dead, especially after Howe's sister Delilah had come to him, pleading for his help to find her brother. There wasn't much he could do. He could poke around, see if anyone had heard anything, but the matters of what happened at Vigil's Keep stayed at Vigil's Keep and he preferred to have as little to do with them as possible.

Aidan pulled his cloak tighter around him, trying to shield himself from the chill that filled the city. He could feel winter coming. The rain of last week had rapidly switched to frozen sleet and back again, nature as mercurial as ever. It was only a matter of time before winter completely set in. Normally the winds from Amaranthine Ocean kept the city warmer than other cities in Ferelden, but the climate had shifted, leaving the land colder than it had once been.

“Chief Constable.”

Aidan turned, expecting to see one of the townsfolk, ready at hand with another complaint but was instead presented with a short yet gangly person. He at first thought it was a boy but upon closer inspection he saw the delicate features of a mid-teen girl, her black hair wild and curly, her chin jutting out firmly, hinting at a stubbornness that wasn’t easily broken.

“Yes,” he responded carefully, trying to assess the child before him. She gave nothing away, her eyes flat and almost void of emotion. It tore at him to see one so young to be so hard.

“I have a message for you.”

“A message? From whom?”

“I think you know, Chief Constable. Do what you will with the information but he urges you to act quickly.” She shoved a folded parchment into his hand, the letter sealed with black wax, a wolf’s head imprinted into it. He frowned at the sigil. Surely this couldn’t be who he thought it was.

He started to crack the wax seal when the girl slapped at his hand, stopping him from continuing.

“Don’t open it here, you idiot. Take it to your office. He suggests, strongly, that you burn it after reading it. Information is power and if you want to take action on what he’s provided to you, keep it close, keep it secret from those you do not trust fully.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m telling you, Chief Constable, that not all in the Constabulary are as honorable as they should be. If I were you I’d keep a sharp eye about you.”

This was no random street rat, he suddenly realized. Her diction was too good. She had received education, and from a good teacher if he was not mistaken, so why was she running errands for a vigilante?

“How old are you?” he asked. “You’re awfully young to be so jaded.”

“Old enough to not want to play at courier,” she grumbled before something caught her gaze, her eyes widening slightly. Aidan gripped the pommel of his sword as he turned to look behind him, bracing himself for an attack, but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, just another routine day in Amaranthine. Turning back he found the girl gone and no trace of her anywhere on the street. Slippery little thing, he thought. But she would have to be if you were in the Dark Wolf’s employ. Funny, he had thought him just a whisper of a rumor but apparently he had been mistaken.

Or, he thought sourly, someone was savvy enough to take on the moniker. Either option was entirely possible.

Aidan took one last look at the sealed letter in his hand, tempted to open it immediately regardless of the girl’s warning but caution won out. She had hinted that someone in his house was dirty and if that was true it was only prudent to view the letter’s contents in private. He tucked the letter into the pouch on his belt, making sure that it was secure. He turned back down the street, heading toward the Guard House. 

Back in the relative privacy of his office Aidan pulled out the sealed letter and stared at it, turning it over in his hands, knowing that once he opened it there was no going back.

“Maker, I hope I’m making the right decision,” he muttered to himself as he broke the seal.

_My Dear Chief Constable--_

_I have learned that the people you seek are working out of caverns that are located below the Crown and Lion. The cavern opens out into small cove that leads to the Amaranthine Sea and this is why your patrols have yielded no fruit. There are two above ground entrances to the caverns but the smugglers have access to only one. For now. One entrance is just outside the city gates, in the last cottage on the left. I have it on good authority that the dwarf bartender controls access to the passage that exits out in the upper storeroom and he’s barred the entrance to them. Some problem with the matter of payment I hear._

_I could take matters into my own hands but I suspect that this is something you wish to handle yourself. I can understand and admire that. I only caution you as to who you trust. As my belligerent young friend has no doubt told you, you have a mole in the Constabulary. How else could these smugglers have evaded you for so long? I won’t tell you to trust no one but do be wary._

_To matters at hand. Speak with the bartender at the Crown and Lion. I’m sure that with a modicum of persuasion he can be convinced to open the passage for you. A small squad of six or seven should do you nicely. I recommend a mid-morning stroll._

_Maker guide your way, my friend._

“Aye, it is definitely something I want to handle myself,” Aidan muttered as he put the letter to the candle sitting on his desk. He watched as the fire licked up the side of the parchment before eating its way across the page. Walking over to the fireplace, he tossed it in, waiting until the fire had consumed it completely before moving back to his desk.

Sitting in his chair, he pinched the bridge of his nose. A squad of six or seven, he said. Against how many? The Dark Wolf, if that really was who he was dealing with, had been slim on those details but he couldn’t believe that the man would lead him into an ambush. He didn’t want to anyway. 

Looking out his window he watched as the sun began to set, the last rays stretching across the city, painting it in a light that made it prettier than it was. Midmorning, he thought. That meant he had less than twelve hours to plan and execute this raid. And he also had to worry about the turncloak in his midst. He didn’t want to think that any of his guards would turn against the oath they took when they joined the Constabulary but it wouldn’t be the first, or last time a person had succumbed to greed.

He pushed back from his desk, stalking over to the door. Upon opening it he startled one of the younger constables, a recent recruit with barely enough hair on his face to justify allowing him in the Constabulary but he had shown his worth. 

“Jasper. Good. I need you to go fetch Deputy Chief Constable Jayne and First Sergeant Percy. I need them here quick.”

“Yes, ser. But ser, it’s nearly-.”

“I know what time it is. Do as I say.”

“Yes, ser. I’ll go right away.”

“Good, you do that,” Aidan murmured as he watched the lad scramble down the hallway to the stairs. Was he really that scary to make someone jump to in such a way? Deciding it didn’t matter as long as he got the results he needed, Aidan returned to his desk to wait. It was going to be a long night.

~~~

“Forgive me, Chief Constable, but how can we trust this information is reliable? We’ve been burned before.”

“That we have Percy, but I trust the source and we need to act on this before these blighted smugglers get wind. They’ve run rampant over this city for far too long and our people have suffered enough. We let this continue and the next thing we know they’ll be doing more than just smuggling. They’ll be running this city and there will be nothing we can do about it.”

True to his word, Jasper had brought both Jayne and First Sergeant Percy Wallace to him within thirty minutes. Neither had looked too happy at being summoned so late in the day but both knew their duty to the city and were committed to it. Of that Aidan was certain. If either of them was the turncloak he was not fit to serve this office. 

“So how do you want to go about this, Aidan? Two entrances you said?”

“Aye, but they only have access to one. We go in through the one located in the Crown and Lion and take them unawares. I would like to take them alive so that they serve trial but I will not shed any tears if they choose death instead. I’m tired of them taking advantage of the city,” Aidan paused. “We also have another problem.”

“Of course we do. We’ll have to station at least two constables at this other entrance in case these arseholes should think to escape that way,” Jayne stated, her gaze focused on the city map spread out before them, her lips pursed in concentration. She was so focused that she missed the look of consternation on Aidan’s face.

“Yes, there’s that, and I’ve accounted for it, but I’m speaking of something else, something much more troubling.”

That got their attention. Both Jayne and Percy looked at him, each with varying degrees of worry crossing their faces.

“Something worse than a band of criminals terrorizing the city? That sounds ominous. The Warden-Commander?”

“No, not in regards to this anyway. I hope not.” Aidan’s jaw tightened at the thought. Would the Warden-Commander really stoop so low as to plant someone within his ranks? He was Orlesian and it was well known that nobles and commoners alike played the Game, why not a Grey Warden? No, he determined. The man had made it fairly obvious he didn’t care what happened to Amaranthine, he would not waste his resources spying on the Constabulary. 

Aidan pushed away from the table and went to stand before the fire. The flames ran low, barely more than warm coals. Crouching down he added more wood, watching as the fire eagerly ate the new fuel. Fire had such an awful power. It could provide light and warmth yet if left untended it could destroy everything in its path. It could cleanse or lay waste to the land, protect or kill. Fire had a life and mind of its own, it knew what it wanted and would do whatever it took to get it. Not unlike the smugglers who held Amaranthine hostage.

“Aidan?”

“How well do you trust our people?” Aidan stood and turned back to Jayne and Percy. Heavy frowns marred both of their faces, a flash of understanding springing up.

“Ser, do you mean to say that we have a turn-cloak within the Constabulary?”

“I mean to say. How else have these smugglers eluded us for so long, Percy? It’s the only thing that makes sense. As much as it pains me to think it, yes, I believe we do have a turn-cloak.”

“Who?” Jayne’s face was hard as stone. It wasn’t often her temper spiked, but when it did it was a near unholy thing to behold. If she got her hands on this turn-cloak there wouldn’t be enough left over for a trial. 

“If I knew that, they would be rotting in the cells now instead of walking about free.” Aidan realized his hands were tightly clenched. Perhaps he wasn’t as calm as he wished to be. He took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on what he knew he could solve. “Percy, I want you and another constable at this second exit. If these bastards should try to flee I want them to have nowhere to run to. Have them meet a steely end if needs be.”

“Yes, ser. It will be done.” The First Sergeant paused, “I’d like to take Ripley with me. She’s honest and too forthright to be our turn-cloak.” Aidan nodded in assent, agreeing with Percy’s assessment.

“Who do you want to bring with us?”

“I need you here at the Guard House, Jayne.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. Like hell you’re going to leave me behind on this.”

“I need someone here, Jayne. Someone who can watch the rest of the Constabulary and to, if possible, sort out who is the turn-cloak.”

“And if this turn-cloak is on the team you take with you to the caverns, what then? Who will watch your back?”

“Am I so old and feeble that I can’t watch my own back?”

Jayne flushed at that. “That’s not what I mean and you know it, dammit. You’ll be fighting against Maker knows how many smugglers, smugglers who I doubt will take kindly to being raided; you don’t want to be worrying if you’re going to get a knife in the back.”

"I understand your concern, Jayne, but please hear me out. With Percy at the other entrance, I need someone here at the Guard House that I can trust and you are that person. We can't both go on this raid. It'll look too suspicious. It will already look suspicious enough by my going. I want whoever this bastard is to feel comfortable and safe right up until we march those smugglers to the cells. I want your eyes and ears here to sort out who's looking nervous and guilty. In my experience, turn-cloaks, especially those who turn for money are brave only as long as they remain anonymous. When we bring in these bastards I can guarantee the sweat will start to pour." 

"Okay, fair enough, but my point still stands. Who's to say this traitor won't be among the constables you bring with you?" Jayne demanded. 

"Ser, she has a point. This bastard could be anyone." 

"That's why we're going to go over the roster and look for likely candidates. Anyone who has a gambling problem, a drinking problem, anyone in debt. Anyone who has a sick family member. I'm looking for those who are greedy and or desperate. We look at everyone." 

"That's a lot of people, Chief Constable." 

"I realize that Percy, but it needs to be done. I don't like the idea of investigating our own any more than you do but this bastard needs to be stopped. He, or she, enabled the smugglers to operate in this city for far too long. I want my house clean."

```

It took a good portion of the evening but they managed to get through the entire Constabulary roster. The results weren't exactly encouraging. A good two-thirds of the Constabulary had one kind of hardship or another. Aidan supposed he really shouldn't be all that surprised; when one really thought about it, the Blight had taken its toll on everyone, leaving all vulnerable to temptation.

The three of them looked at everything from patrol reports, to attendance, to disciplinary actions. They combined that with what they could glean of their personal lives and it gave them four potential suspects. Four. And he was forced to admit that it was possible that none of them were the one they were looking for. They just didn't have enough time to fully investigate before raiding the smuggler's hideout in the morning and that was something they could not afford to put off more than a day. It needed to be quick before word got out and the smugglers were able to reinforce themselves. 

"So, we have Constables Jenkins, Burroughs, and Dixon, and Sergeant Wilson. Jenkins is young and impressionable. He also has a young daughter. His wife passed away last year and he has little support outside the mercy of the Chantry," Jayne started. She looked like she had swallowed something sour and it wasn't sitting well with her. Aidan could relate. He hated this but it had to be done. "Kara's helped them on occasion; she would have told me if something felt off." 

"No disrespect Jayne, but your wife has a soft heart. She likes to see the best in people, even when it's not there." 

"True, she married me after all but I like to think it was my good looks and winning personality that won her over," Jayne replied, a half-smile forming on her lips before she continued. "Burroughs is a bit of a problem child. She's frequently late for her shifts and has on more than one occasion been marked for insubordination." 

"It's true, Chief Constable. I've had to write her up more than a few times for unbecoming behavior, once for showing up drunk for duty. I could see her doing this just out of spite," Percy added. The older man had progressively gotten more morose as the evening went on. The process of investigating their own was clearly weighing on him. 

"Yes, I'm familiar with Constable Burroughs. Not an easy person to deal with, no. What about Constable Dixon?" 

Aidan heard Percy swear under his breath and raised an eyebrow. First Sergeant Percy Wallace was not a man for swearing, it would have been amusing if it weren't for the circumstances.

"Something to share, Percy?" 

"I'm sorry, ser, but Dixon, the kid's an idiot. In my opinion he should have never been allowed into the Constabulary. He has no respect for his position." 

"I haven't seen any reports come across my desk." 

"No, ser, you wouldn't have as he hasn't really done anything to warrant that. He's, well, a bit of a joker, doesn't take the job seriously. He's pulled more than one prank on the other Constables, much to their displeasure." 

"Sounds like he's a better candidate for those so-called Blight Orphans than a turn-cloak." 

"That's probably true, ser, but he'd see all this as a lark. A way to line his pockets while having a bit of fun, as he would put it. To be honest, ser, the kid needs a good slap up the back of the head and a kick in the arse.” 

Aidan snorted despite himself. He could remember a time when he was of an age and had participated in more than his fair share of pranks but that had been a long time ago and he was an old man now. Well, older anyway. 

The smile fell from his face as he considered the last suspect. Sergeant Marshall Wilson was, on the surface, an excellent Constable but the man was a little too strict with the rules sometimes and it showed in his work. Rules were there for a reason but without compassion and understanding to accompany them, what was meant to protect could instead be used to harm.

"Wilson." 

His two companions shifted uncomfortably in their seats. If investigating the constables was uncomfortable, looking into one of the senior officers was even more so. People like Wilson were supposed to lead, but Marshall Wilson's idea of leading was harsh and Aidan had received more than one complaint about the man. 

"Sergeant Wilson's a hard man, this is true. I'm not going to lie and say I like him, you'd know it for one before the words were out of my mouth." Jayne picked up her mug, taking a deep swallow of its contents. "He doesn't broker any nonsense from the under-officers, and well, there's been complaints from the public about his use of excessive force." 

"Yes, I'm aware. I've spoken with him regarding those matters. He's been on the Constabulary the longest of us all but there's a reason that he's still a Sergeant." Aidan cast an apologetic look to Percy. The man shrugged it off, knowing that Aidan meant no offense. "But would he really do this? Would he turn against everything he's believed in since he joined?"

"The Blight changed a lot of things. Broke many people's faith, not only in the Chantry but in law and order as well. You've seen the patrol reports, ser. Reports of brigand and marauder attacks are almost as frequent as reports of darkspawn." 

"Would that we had more time," Aidan sighed, slumping back in his chair. Rubbing his hands over his face, feeling defeated. "Right then. These four will stay behind here at the Guard House. Jayne, I want to you keep an eye on them. Think of some pretense to keep them in the same room, I'm not too picky on the details." 

"It could be none of these people, you know that Aidan." 

"I do Jayne, I do, but that's a risk we'll have to take. Of the rest, who do you trust the most? Percy, you already said Constable Ripley was reliable." 

"Yes, ser. If you'd rather have her with you--." 

"No, you can keep her. With it just the two of you, I'd feel better if you have someone you know you can trust." 

"One on one is better odds than four on one, Aidan." 

"Jayne," Aidan sighed.

"No, I know, and I get it. I do. Just, don't be so focused on kicking those smugglers' asses that you get your own kicked by one of ours. I don't want to attend your funeral anytime soon." Her eyes flicked to Percy, as if weighing her words, deciding if she should proceed. "If you insist on doing it this way, Owens and Woods are solid."

"I know them, and agree. Owens tried to frisk the Warden-Commander when he first came to town. That alone makes me like him. I regret stopping him now." 

"Who would guess that the new Warden-Commander would turn out to be a complete and utter ass. He makes Wilson look like a kitten in comparison." 

"Yes, Maker forbid we need the man to preside over any trials,” Aidan agreed. “Fortunately he's so busy chasing after darkspawn; his seneschal deals with most of the day to day matters." 

"Maker forgive me, but I believe in his grief, King Alistair made a poor decision in gifting the Arling to the Wardens. There's a reason why the Wardens remain politically neutral." 

"I agree, Percy, but there's nothing we can do about that. We can only deal with what we have control of and rousting these smugglers is at the top of the list. So Owens and Woods, who else?" 

Jayne and Percy shifted in their seats, stealing a glance between them.

"Don't just sit there and chew on it. Who else do you have in mind?" 

“Leena.”

Aidan could only stare at Jayne. She had to be joking.

“You cannot be serious.”

“Ser, I understand that matters between you two are a bit, uh, complicated but she’s one of our best close in fighters. We don’t know what you’ll find beneath the Crown and Lion but it’s a sure bet that it will be cramped quarters for some of it. You can’t swing a broadsword in a tunnel.”

Aidan knew Percy was right but he wasn't keen on the idea of having his sister on the raid. Relations between them were tenuous at best. On the surface they were perfectly civil with each other but outside of the Constabulary they were strangers. They hadn’t spent a Wintersend, or any other holiday for that matter, together since Arianna had died. While his sister didn’t exactly blame him for Arianna’s death she had taken serious issue with how he had dealt with it, or more accurately not dealt with it. Once he had sobered up he had tried to make amends with her but it was to no avail. Eventually he had just given up and now they were little more than colleagues.

“Well, this should be a pleasant family outing then,” he grunted. “Eight bells tomorrow, we’ll hand out the new assignments and take care of those blighted smugglers. And, if we’re lucky, we’ll catch ourselves a turn-cloak.”


	3. Chapter 3

The next day dawned too early for Aidan. He had barely slept. Hundreds of scenarios had played through his head of how today’s events would unfold. Today had to go well. It just had to. The city needed to reclaim itself and ridding it of these smugglers was a huge step. 

Rising from his bed, he hissed as his bare feet hit the cold stone floor. He kept meaning to get a rug to cover the bare floor but he never seemed to get around to it. There was too much to do to worry about decor.

Sunlight crept through his single window as he dressed and put on his armor. The previous Chief Constable had gifted it to Aidan when he had been promoted to Deputy Chief Constable, telling him that it wasn’t just enough to have the skills, he also needed to look the part, shallow though it was. Remembering the conversation, Aidan couldn’t help but agree. Presenting a strong front was important and even more so on a day like today. He needed to show the city of Amaranthine that he wouldn’t let it fall into the hands of smugglers and thieves.

Aidan was buckling the last buckle when the bells rang for the early matins service. He paused, considering. Though he did consider himself an Andrastean, he wasn’t very faithful about attending services, yet another point of contention between him and Leena. Before leaving the house, he grabbed his cloak and pulled it around him to ward off the early morning chill. Perhaps a quick prayer wouldn’t hurt.

It was a short walk to the Chantry of Our Lady Redeemer and the streets were relatively empty. Merchants were just starting to open up their shops for the day as he climbed the stairs to the Chantry. Upon reaching the small courtyard Aidan was brought up short when he noticed what looked like a Satinalia party mask perched on the statue of Andraste. Damned Blight Orphans, he thought, for who else could be responsible? He knew he should probably remove it, especially seeing as he had come to pray, but he pushed open the doors instead. Dressing Andraste in a Satinalia mask was probably blasphemous in one way or another but he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Upon entering the Chantry he found it dim and the air saturated with incense. His nose wrinkled at the smell and he was reminded that the excessive use of incense was one of the reasons behind his infrequent visits. How the sisters put up with the smell was beyond him.

He chose one of the back pews in a shadowed corner, giving himself access to a quick exit. He wasn’t entirely sure what had provoked him to come but he did not intend to stay very long and didn’t want to get caught by the Revered Mother to receive yet another reprimand for not finding and arresting the hooligans, as she called them, who had assaulted her person by putting itching powder in her bedsheets. So yes, having a quick exit strategy seemed prudent.

“Blessed Andraste,” he started, and that was as far as he got before his mind went blank. He couldn’t remember any of the verses from the Chant of Light much less any that would serve in this situation. It seemed somehow wrong to pray for success in battle, for one person to win, another had to lose. He had to remind himself that this was all for the greater good and that these smugglers deserved whatever fate awaited them.

“At a loss for words, Chief Constable?”

Aidan didn’t jump at the intruding voice but it was a near thing. He kept his head bowed as he heard the person who claimed to be the Dark Wolf settle in next to him. Aidan was certain that it was by design that he could hear the man; there was little doubt that he’d ever know the Dark Wolf was there if he didn’t want him to know. Was he dealing with an assassin in addition to a vigilante? Andraste preserve him.

“Ser Wolf,” he muttered. “That is who you presume to be, yes?”

A soft chuckle answered him. “The name serves its purpose, so I suppose my answer is yes.” There was a slight pause. “It takes great strength to take on the unknown. You have no reason to trust me, and yet you did. It is the mark of a great man to take the difficult path.”

“Yes, well, you caught me at a time where I’m at my wit’s end. Desperation can lead a man to strange waters but I will do what must be done. I won’t let these criminals gain control of the city.”

“The smugglers are not our only problem.”

“Yes, the turn-cloak, aye. We’re working on that.” When silence met him Aidan turned his head toward his companion. The man had the hood of his cloak pulled down over his face, obscuring his features, but his frame was tense, as if he was expecting an attack. “Is there something else I should know about?”

“The Warden-Commander’s efforts to root out the darkspawn threat have yielded unusual fruit. Amaranthine is not safe.”

“It’s true we’ve had more attacks, some even within sight of the city’s walls. There have been unsettling reports of sickness in the lower city. Blast, the Blight is over, they should be gone.” 

“Yes, they should. But these darkspawn are different. I’ve heard rumors, rumors mind you, that these darkspawn are different. They’re organized, not just some mindless, ruthless mob. And their numbers are growing.”

“What does this mean for Amaranthine?”

“Nothing good, Chief Constable, nothing good.”

“And what does the Warden-Commander intend to do about it?”

“What Wardens always do. Kill darkspawn, at any cost. He will sacrifice Amaranthine if he deems it necessary.”

Aidan pounded his gauntlet clad fist into the pew in front of him, earning more than his fair share of dirty looks from early morning parishioners. Ignoring them, he struggled to maintain his composure. He wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or not that he had forgone breaking his fast as the acid in his stomach began to churn.

“How long do we have?”

“Not long. A few days at the most, I hope. My companion and I will assist you in anyway we can.”

“Your companion. The girl?”

“Do not let her age fool you. She is most capable. She survived the assault on Highever and the Blight, all mostly on her own. A little rough around the edges perhaps but that’s all part of her charm.”

“She’s an orphan?”

“Not a Blight Orphan, if that’s what you’re thinking of, but one of my father’s making.”

“Your father?”

“For another time, perhaps. Right now I believe you have a raid to prepare for.”

Before Aidan could respond he found himself alone among the small crowd of morning worshipers. For all his help, the Dark Wolf often left him with more questions than answers. Growling in frustration, he stood up and made for the exit. Was no there no such thing anymore as a simple problem? Apparently not in Thedas.

~~~

Jayne already had the day shift constables before her, ready to hand out the day’s assignments when he walked into the Guard House. Her eyes shifted to him briefly before returning to the constables in front of her. He stepped up beside her and watched the eyes of several of the constables grow wide. While it wasn’t unheard of him to make an appearance at morning roll call it wasn’t exactly routine and he knew his presence here would alert them that something was up.

“Alright, listen up. There’s going to be a little bit of change to the day’s assignments. The routine patrols will still happen but there are a couple of adjustments. Constable Ripley, you and First Sergeant Percy will be patrolling the outer wall this morning.” Jayne continued rattling off assignments, most of them routine. Aidan watched over the people gathered, saw the questions in their eyes. 

“Okay, now that we’re done with routine patrols, we’ve added a couple others. Constables Owens and Woods, you will join Sergeant Lenna and the Chief Constable in patrolling the central city area. He will provide more information on your route after we’re dismissed. Sergeant Wilson and Constables Burroughs, Dixon, and Jenkins, you’ll be here with me at the Guard House. There are some new procedures that have been drawn up in light of the increased darkspawn activity around the city and you four are the lucky ones to be the first group to go through them.”

“What’s more to know? You see a darkspawn, you kill it, you don’t ask it to dance,” Dixon blurted out. Jayne merely stared at him and waited. The kid flushed red as if he just realized that he had spoken out loud.

“Dixon, it’s comments like that that will put you on a week’s worth of night duty. Everyone will be going through this training. Everyone. Now, any other smartass remarks or comments? No? Good. You have your assignments.”

Jayne stepped back, standing next to Aidan as they watched the constables file out of the guardroom. 

“I hope this plan of yours works, Aidan. If this goes wrong--.”

“I know, Jayne, I know, but what other choice do we have? Nice touch, by the way, with the darkspawn training. I hope you’ve come up with some actual new tactics because we might need them sooner rather than later.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll fill you in after the raid. Oh, and just so you know, I will apparently have a fifth member attending our little party.”

“The Dark Wolf.”

“No, his little protege, the Little Wolf.”

“The Little Wolf?”

Aidan shrugged. “It’s a good a name as any.”

They broke off conversation as Owens and Woods approached, quiet but their faces betrayed their curiosity. Leena stood behind them, also quiet, but her face showed annoyance, making it quite clear she wasn't pleased with today’s assignment.

“Right then. Good luck with your classes, Jayne. You three, with me.”

The activity on the street had increased while they had been inside. People of all types milled through the markets, perusing the stalls, not that there was much to peruse. Hopefully that would soon change.

“With me,” he said, turning right at the exit from the Guard House. The two constables followed behind but his sister stepped up beside him.

“Tell me, brother dear. Why does it take four constables to patrol one small area of the city? Not to question your methods, but wouldn't it make more sense to spread us out?”

“We’re not exactly patrolling this morning, Leena. I have a specific task in mind.”

“Do you now? Care to share, or am I to guess?”

Aidan stopped by a large tree that shaded most of the street, turning back to his three companions. He looked each of them in the eye and prayed that he hadn’t made an error of judgement.

“We have a lead as to where the smugglers are hiding. We’re going to take them out.”

“What? Just the four of us?”

“Do you doubt our abilities, Sergeant?” he said sharply, struggling to keep his voice even. Now was not the time for him and Leena to get into a sibling squabble. “All of you know the trouble these bastards have caused this city. We have the advantage here and I mean to take it. I received information that there is a cove underneath the Crown and Lion. There’s an entrance into them from the upper levels, one they don’t have access to, but we do.”

“Do we know how many are down there?” Woods asked, barely able to hold back his eagerness. This would be his first big raid and while Aidan couldn’t fault him for his enthusiasm, he needed them focused.

“No. But they don’t know that we’re coming, or where we’re coming from.” _I hope_ , he said to himself. “We’re going to have a little chat with the inn’s bartender, remind him of his civic duty, and then we’re going to take these bastards down. First Sergeant Percy and Constable Ripley are covering the other entrance should anyone of them try to flee.”

Aidan paused for a moment, wondering if he should tell them about their secret companion. No, he thought, they needed to know. Otherwise they might think she was one of the smugglers and might kill her and he didn’t want that on his conscience.

“We may also have help from a third party. Our informant has someone down there. She can handle herself, don’t worry.”

Without waiting for them to answer, Aidan turned and headed to the Crown and Lion. The main room was dim and almost empty when they entered. The innkeeper was nowhere to be found but the dwarf bartender was behind the bar, organizing bottles, his back to them. Deaglan, he suddenly remembered, that was his name.

Aidan stepped up to the bar and felt his nose twitch at the smell of ale. It was to be expected, having the urge for a drink, but he forced it behind him. He had a job to do.

“Deaglan.”

The dwarf turned, nearly dropping the mug he was holding when he saw them.

“Chief Constable, I wouldn't think to see you in here. What can I do for you?” 

Nervous, Aidan thought. He knows exactly why we’re here. Never thought he would get caught, the bastard.

“I need access to the passage, Deaglan. And don’t even try to play stupid with me. Cooperate and maybe you won’t see the inside of a cell for colluding with the smugglers.”

“You must understand--.”

“I don’t have to understand anything, Deaglan. Open the passage. Now. Or I swear by the Maker and his bride and all your ancestors that you will not see sunlight for a year.”

The dwarf fumbled with the mug, nearly dropping it in his attempt to set it on the counter. It was amazing what the threat of jail time could do to some people. Threaten to take away their freedom and a person would do almost anything to prevent that.

“Follow me.”

Deaglan led them upstairs. Aidan ignored the stares and whispers from the few patrons and followed him. The dwarf led them to a small storage room. He pulled a heavy chest to the side and flipped the rug underneath it off, revealing a trap door. Producing a key from his belt, he unlocked the padlock and pulled open the trapdoor. The dwarf wore such an earnest expression on his face that Aidan was sorely tempted to smash his fist into it. Because of him the smugglers had been able to move freely throughout the city, getting their goods in and charging exorbitant prices for them.

“Don’t even try to smile at me, Deaglan. I’d haul you down to the Guard House right now if I didn’t have more important things to deal with but rest assured, you are next on my list.”

“I was just trying to earn some extra money, Chief Constable. You can’t fault a man for that.”

Aidan’s gauntleted fist flew out, smash into the dwarf’s face. Deaglan’s eyes rolled back into his head as he fell back into the boxes behind him. Blood dribbled down his face and into his beard, his nose shifted painfully to one side. 

“Feel better, brother dear?”

“Not yet, but I’m getting there.”

They quietly made their way down into the passage. It was near dark but he could see a light flickering ahead of them. Unsheathing his sword, he motioned for the others to make ready. The passage twisted left then right before widening and leading into a larger room. In the distance he could see docks with boats tied up to them. A group of men were offloading boxes onto the dock, one shouting orders for them to hurry up.

 _Damn_ , he thought. _I had hoped that they would be still asleep. Smugglers with a work ethic, who knew?_

He turned to his companions and in looking at each of their faces he could have told Jayne that she had nothing to worry about. None of them were the turn-cloak, he was sure of it. Both Owens and Woods looked positively gleeful at the prospect of taking down the smugglers, and Leena, while she may hate him, would never betray her oath to protect the city.

“Okay, we go in hard, and we go in fast.”

“What about our mystery guest?” Leena whispered.

“I’m sure she’s around, just focus on the task at hand. Try not to kill them but I won’t shed a tear if they are sent to the Maker for judgement.”

“On _that_ , brother mine, we agree. Owens and I will take the right side, if that’s okay with you.”

Aidan nodded, motioning for Woods to follow him. Together they crept along the stone wall, inching towards their prey. Ten men stood on the docks. Four, five actually if the Dark Wolf told him true, against ten. Not the best odds, but not horrible either.

Something alerted the man shouting orders, Aidan never knew what and didn’t have time to think about it as the smugglers rushed at him and Woods. Leena and Owens came in from the right, blades drawn. The smugglers were well armed and armored he quickly realized and not unskilled with their weapons as they pressed in on their attack.

A short man charged straight at him, using more balls than brains. Aidan stepped to the side, evading the attack. The man had barely turned before Aidan bashed his shield into his face, knocking the man unconscious.

Turning back to the fray, Aidan just managed to deflect the swing of a long sword aiming for his head, knocking it aside with his shield and thrust forward with his own sword, slicing into his opponent’s sword arm. The woman, stumbled back, but managed to hang onto her sword. She made to swing at him again, yelling as she did so, but was stopped when an arrow caught her in the leg. Clutching her leg, she fell to the ground, moaning in pain.

No sooner had the woman had fallen then another had taken her place. Aidan was pushed back by the man’s ferocious attack. Their blades struck each other with Aidan losing ground with each strike. The man swung at him and Aidan realized that it was the one who had been shouting orders at the others. The ringleader then. He used a dual wield style similar to Leena’s but it was much sloppier than hers; didn’t make it any less dangerous though.

His opponent sliced at him and Aidan just managed to spin out of the way. He slammed into the man with his shield and heard the satisfying crunch of the man’s arm break. The man fell back but not before swiping his leg out and hooking it behind Aidan’s. Aidan fell back himself, air whooshing out of his lungs from the impact. Scrambling to his feet, he stood over his opponent, placing his blade at the man’s throat.

“Do you yield?”

The man spat at him in response. Aidan pressed the tip of his blade into the man’s skin and watched as a thin line of blood dribbled down his neck.

“Do you yield?” he asked again.

“Fuck you, this city is mine.”

Aidan shook his head. “No, it’s not. Not anymore. One last time, do you yield?”

“I’ll die first.”

“As you wish.”

He pulled his sword back and swung it down, putting his entire weight behind it. The smuggler’s head rolled to the side, his blood spilling out across the floor. Aidan looked down at the man, disgust rising through him. He should have yielded.

Turning back to the rest, he found that his companions had subdued the other smugglers in one fashion or another. Two were unconscious, three dead, and the rest had thrown down their arms in surrender. Aidan noticed that a couple had been brought down by arrows, the fletching black. He looked around, wondering where the Little Wolf was but saw no sign of her. It was just as well, he supposed. 

Leena came over to him, staring down at the body of the leader. She kicked his leg, as if to make sure he was dead. 

“He’s dead, Leena.”

“I can see that. You sure it was necessary?”

“I gave him the chance to yield. More than one. He refused.”

Leena stared at him, measuring him. He stared back at her, refusing to back down. “I did what I had to do. It was for the good of the city.”

She looked at him for a moment longer before slowly nodding her head. He couldn’t help but feel relief at her silent approval. They may be at odds in their personal lives but at least on matters of law and order they were agreed.

“We should get this lot back to the Guard House then. I hear you have cells waiting for them.”

“Oh yes. I do indeed.”


	4. Chapter 4

The Guard House rang with cheers and applause as they brought the remaining smugglers in. Word of their exploits in the underground cove had spread quickly. Aidan watched their faces, looking for any trace of fear, any trace of the person who had turned their back on the law, but he could find nothing. He wanted to be satisfied with the battle they had just won but it was hard when he knew that it was only half done.

He let Owens and Woods bring the remaining smugglers to the cells, knowing that it would bring them a sense of closure. Needing a moment to himself, he climbed the stairs to his office. He knew that he should address the men and women below, congratulate them, especially Owens and Woods who had shown their worth, but he just needed a moment to himself. And a smoke.

He hadn’t had more than fifteen minutes alone with his pipe when there was a knock at the door. Sighing, he called out for whoever it was to enter. Jayne walked in, with Percy close on her heels. Submitting to the inevitable interrogation, he motioned for them to sit. Both of them wrinkled their noses at the smell of his pipeweed, an action he chose to ignore.

“The prisoners are secured in their cells. I have Owens and Woods are going through their things. Maybe we’ll find something on them that will lead us to our turncloak.”

“If only we could be that lucky. How did your ‘training’ go?”

“About as well as you might expect. Dixon and Burroughs bitched through most of it while Wilson glowered at me. Jenkins was the only one who seemed happy to be there. He looked about dead on his feet. His daughter’s sick again, had him up half the night.”

“Are we any closer to deciding if one of them is our turn-cloak?”

“I wish I could give you the answer you’re looking for Aidan, I really do, but no, we’re not.”

“I suppose it was too much to hope for it to be that easy.” He puffed on his pipe, letting the fragrant smoke wash over him. “I suppose we’ll have to send a message to Vigil’s Keep and notify the Warden-Commander. The man is the ruler of the arling after all, as much as we all hate it.”

“Do you plan on telling him about our internal problem?” asked Percy, his face carefully neutral.

“No. I do not. Do either of you have an issue with that?”

“Absolutely not. As far as I’m concerned this is a Constabulary issue and one that we will handle ourselves. The Warden-Commander can go bugger himself.”

Aidan tried, unsuccessfully, to smother a smile at Percy’s swearing before deciding it wasn’t worth it. They all hated the Warden-Commander so it made no sense to hide it.

“What do you want to do with the prisoners? Should we interrogate them now or let them stew for a bit.”

Aidan pursed his lips, thinking. “Let them stew. Let them wonder. Might loosen their tongues. Also, go round up Deaglan, that dwarf bartender at the Crown and Lion. He’s a part of this even if his role was on the fringes of it. We’ll also need someone to clean up those bodies. I don’t want them rotting down there.”

“As you say, ser. I’ll take care of it personally.”

With that Percy left, leaving him and Jayne alone. She kicked out her legs before her, resting her head on the back of her chair, her head tilted to the ceiling. Several minutes passed by before she spoke.

“So, this new darkspawn threat you mentioned earlier. Care to expand on that?”

“I don’t have much to tell you. The Dark Wolf said that these darkspawn are different from the ones we’ve fought over the last couple of years. Smarter.”

That brought Jayne’s head up. “ _Smart_ darkspawn? Andraste’s tits are you kidding me?”

“Hard to believe right? Without the archdemon to direct them they’re little more than rabid beasts. If they’re are smart as the Dark Wolf says they are, Amaranthine is in trouble.”

“So what do we do about it?”

“I want to send scouts out, see if these rumors of smart darkspawn are true. Keeping people safe from darkspawn is not the exclusive duty of the Wardens. In the meantime, we need to come--.”

A sharp knock at the door interrupted him. Aidan didn’t even have a chance to answer before the door swung open and Constable Owens stumbled in, his face pale and blood spattered. Aidan stood up, his pipe falling to the floor.

“Ser, it’s, its…”

“Calm down and breathe Constable. What is it?” Jayne ordered as she grabbed the man’s arm and held him still.

“They’re dead, Chief Constable. They’re all dead.”

Aidan went still, speechless for a moment before he shook himself out of it. 

“Show me.”

Owens led them down the stairs and then into the basements where the cells were held. All the cell doors were open but none of their occupants had fled. Their bodies lay at twisted angles, a red smile resting on their necks. Woods sat slumped against a wall, holding a cloth to his head, trying to stem the blood pouring from his head.

“What happened?” Aidan demanded, standing in the doorway of one of the cells, looking down at the body that lay within. 

“I don’t rightly know, ser. I went upstairs to get some bandages, figured you’d want this lot healthy enough to stand trial. When I got back, Woods was lying unconscious and all the prisoners were dead. I couldn’t have been gone for more than ten minutes.”

“Did you see anyone? Anyone at all lurking around the cells or the door to the basement?” Aidan advanced on the young constable, grabbing him by the collar and shoving him against the wall. A white hot rage pulsed through him. “Tell me!”

“No, ser. No I didn’t. I’m telling it true. I swear.” Owens’ eyes grew wide, obviously not expecting such an attack from his commander. “I swear.”

“Aidan!” Jayne’s voice rang out in warning, sharp and clear. Aidan’s vision cleared, the rage quieting. Carefully he let go of Owens, stepping back but unable to stop his hands from shaking.

“Gather everyone in the main room. Whoever did this can’t have gotten far. Do you know who was in the main room when you came up?” he asked Owens. The man still stood pressed against the wall, his eyes wide. “Owens! Snap out of it. Who was in the main room when you came up to get the bandages?”

“About a dozen or so constables, ser. Burroughs and Jenkins. That Dixon kid. Sergeant Wilson. Jasper and Clements and a few others. I can’t remember their names.”

“Good enough, Owens. That will have to suffice.” He turned to Woods. The man was still sitting on the floor but his eyes looked more focused. Blood smeared down his face, painting it in a grim mask. “Did you see who struck you?”

“No, ser. I’m sorry. They came up behind me. Knocked me out good, they did. Owens here brought me to, that’s when we saw, when we saw all this.”

“Can you tell us nothing of your attacker?” Jayne asked as she knelt before him, pulling his head down gently to inspect the wound.

“He was shorter than me. I think. But not by much.”

“You’re sure it was a man?”

“Pretty sure. It sounds weird, but I think I heard him apologizing for hitting me. Don’t know what to make of it.”

Jayne shared a glance with Aidan. Both of them thinking the same thing. Their turn-cloak had just eliminated anyone who could out him. He was covering up his tracks and cutting off loose ends.

“Can you move, son?”

“Yes, ser, I can. Might be a bit wobbly, but I can stand.”

Owens helped Woods to his feet, supporting the man as they followed Aidan and Jayne up the stairs. When they got to the main room the constables there were gathering for the midday meal. Aidan saw those who Owens had said had been in the main room, plus a few others. Could the turn-cloak, now murderer, still be here? Would he be that stupid? It was messy business, slitting a person’s throat, and he couldn’t have gotten away without being stained.

“Everyone, listen up.”

His order came out much rougher than he had intended, his voice echoing against the stone walls of the Guard House. To a one all the constables turned toward him and went silent. He saw their gazes flick to Woods and Owens and the questions started to form in their minds.

“Our prisoners are dead and someone in this building is to blame. One of us.”

Aidan watched each face, looking at their reactions. They ranged from horror to shock to outright indignation.

“I have it on good authority that this same person had been working with the smugglers, helping them avoid our patrols and efforts to stop them.”

“Bullshit!”

Aidan turned toward the voice. Burroughs had stood up from her bench, her face flushed.

“Do you have a comment, Constable?”

“Yes, ser, I do. To what end would someone do this? For a few coppers? There are better ways to make money.”

“Perhaps there are, Constable, but nonetheless someone here has done just that. The proof is in the cells downstairs. Whoever this person is slit their throats but not before bashing Woods here over the head.”

The crowd before him starting murmuring. He could see the suspicion growing in their eyes. This was the exact situation he had been trying to avoid but his hand had been forced.

“Quiet down, all of you. I don’t like the idea of someone betraying us anymore than any of you do. Believe me. Now, we’re--.”

The door to the Guard House slammed open, Percy running in at full speed. He brought himself up short at the sight of all the constables gathered and the hostile looks on their faces. After that brief pause, he hurried across the room to Aidan’s side.

“Chief Constable, I must speak with you.”

“It’ll have to wait, Percy, I’m sorry. Someone killed our prisoners.”

“It can’t--, what? How?”

“The how’s not so much in question as the who,” Aidan told him, his eyes never leaving the crowd before him. Burroughs had remained standing, glaring at him defiantly. Despite her disciplinary problems he had to admire her stubbornness. 

“I’m sorry, ser, I know this is important but we have bigger matters to attend to right now. The Warden-Commander is outside.”

That got Aidan’s attention. Oh, how he loathed the man. When he asked the Orlesian for help he couldn’t be bothered, but when the Warden-Commander wanted something he expected it right away.

“And he sent you as an errand boy? The Warden-Commander can go fuck himself. Unless there are darkspawn breaking down the city gates I don’t particularly care what he wants.”

“Well…”

“Percy? What is it?”

“He claims, the Warden-Commander that is. He claims that the darkspawn are marching north, to both here and to Vigil’s Keep. Ser, I think he means to burn the city.”

Aidan was rendered speechless. Burn the city? Was the man mad?

Pushing past Percy, he marched outside. Sure enough, the Warden-Commander and his companions were waiting for him. All were covered in a mixture of blood and a thick ichor. Tainted blood, darkspawn blood.

It was then that he heard it. That screeching and growling sound that he had become all too familiar with over the last couple of years. He could smell smoke. Turning toward the city gates he saw the glow of fire reflecting against the low-hung clouds.

“That sound you hear, Chief Constable, is darkspawn and they are intent on attacking this city.”

“But why?”

“They are commanded by the Mother and are intent on destroying everything in their path. We eradicated several bands on our way here but the main horde is not far behind. While you’ve been pissing around with smugglers the darkspawn have invaded this city. You were in charge on this city’s defenses.”

“I wouldn't have had to deal with the smugglers if you had given me aid when I asked for it.”

“I am a Grey Warden not some rat catcher.”

“You are also in charge of the welfare of all of Amaranthine, are you not? Did not King Alistair give you and the Wardens this duty? And look at it. You have failed, Warden-Commander.”

The voice spoke from the shadows. The Warden-Commander drew his sword only to have an arrow buzz by his ear. A look of pure outrage and indignation flashed over the man’s face. The female dwarf next to him looked like she was trying to smother a laugh while the elf just glared at them all.

“How dare you attack me! I was sent by my order to root out the darkspawn threat. I will not be treated in such a manner.”

“What you are, my dear Warden-Commander, is a fool. You neglected this city, you have failed this city. It wouldn't be on the brink of destruction if you had done your duty.”

A shadow moved and stepped forward. Aidan sighted the now familiar figure of the Dark Wolf, his ever-present hood pulled down over his face. He heard the creak of a bowstring being drawn and looked up to see his companion standing on the rooftop, her arrow aimed at the Warden-Commander’s head.

“A city can be rebuilt.”

“But what about its people. You cannot rebuild those.” The Dark Wolf took another step forward. “I know ambition, Warden-Commander, I know what it can do to a man. It does ugly things.”

“Who are you to question me? A man in a hood. I should have you arrested.”

“And just who would do the arresting, Warden-Commander? I don’t think the Chief Constable here is inclined to do anything you say. And as to who I am, well,” the Dark Wolf paused as he took another step forward and pulled back his hood, revealing a face hardened by age and war. His dark brown hair was pulled back from his face in a queue, a day’s or more worth of stubble on his narrow face, but it was his grey eyes that were the hardest part of him. They stared down at the Warden-Commander, disgust filling them.

“You! I should have known. I should have killed you when I had the chance.”

“Yes, perhaps you should have, more’s the pity. You, ser, are a disgrace to your order. My grandfather was a Grey Warden and he would weep to see what you have done in their name, right before he drew his blade and do the duty he was sworn to do.

“It was only because of me and my companion that we were able to keep the darkspawn at bay, to keep this city safe. And I watched, I watched you as you pissed away every opportunity that could help save this city.”

“You and your entire family are the disgrace here, Nathaniel Howe, not I.”

“My father may have disgraced my family’s name with his greed and blind ambition, but I am not my father. I strive to live my life with honor.”

“How, by hiding behind a mask?”

“Funny to hear that coming from an Orlesian. We all have our masks, Warden-Commander, literally or figuratively, and yours is slipping.”

Aidan couldn’t quite believe what he was witnessing. The son from a disgraced family sneering down at a Grey Warden. If he wasn't seeing if for himself he wouldn't believe it.

“Go on and fight your war, Warden-Commander. I know that it burns you a Dalish elf was able to slay the archdemon, so go, go on and find your own. I’d be careful though. You might not like what you find.”

The Warden-Commander spat at their feet before turning away, barking orders at his companions to follow. The dwarf paused briefly, looking at them thoughtfully.

“You know, I don’t think I've ever seen anyone talk to him that way. Well, Anders did and that didn’t end well for him. Kind of refreshing to see someone stand up to him and come out on the winning side.”

“Why don’t you?” Aidan asked. “Obviously you’re capable.”

“Oh, no doubt. But I took an oath, two actually. One where I’m dead already and the other where I accept a slow death,” she paused, tossing a pouch at him. Aidan caught it with one hand, barely glancing at it before looking at the dwarf again, more closely this time. 

“I know you,” he said slowly. There was something about the dwarf’s jaunty manner that sparked something in his brain.

“We've met. Sort of. Before I joined the Legion I had a rather unsavory past. Nicked quite a few things here and there. Only got caught once, didn’t stick though.”

“Sigrun!”

“Oops. My lord and master calls. I wish I could be of more help. The Ancestors watch over you.”

Aidan watched as the dwarf ran after the Warden-Commander and the rest of her companions. A howl screeched throughout air. Aidan looked up and saw nothing but he could feel its eyes pressing in, watching them as they stood there.

“There’s no time. Gather your men, Chief Constable. That man _will_ burn this city if given half a chance, have no doubt about that. We need to make sure that doesn't happen.”

“I have only fifty constables, Howe. What are fifty constables against a darkspawn army?”

“Better than none. Rally them, Chief Constable. Rally them and perhaps we can save this city. My companion and I will help you.”

“Your Little Wolf?”

“Little Wolf?” Nathaniel smiled. “Oh, how she’ll hate that. Yes, it’s perfect.”

“You’re right, I do hate it. Can we move on now? I can hear them getting closer,” said a disgruntled voice from the shadows. Aidan looked up to see a figure perched on a rooftop, her bow resting on her thighs.

Nathaniel grabbed Aidan’s arm. “Take a squad. Get as many people down into the smuggler’s cove as you can. If that bastard does set fire to the city they’ll be protected down there.”

“I’ll see to it.”

“Andraste watch over you my friend.”

And like that, Nathaniel Howe and his Little Wolf blended back into the shadows, almost like they had never been there. 

“Ser? Ser, what do you want us to do?”

Aidan turned to find half the Constabulary behind them. He looked at their faces, every somber one of them. They could see the smoke curling across the sky and the screams coming from a distance. Any thought of who might be the turn-cloak was gone from their minds, pushed aside in regards to a greater threat.

“What do we do? We fight. We split up in to groups of five, we take a section of the city and clear it out. You come across any darkspawn, you kill it. You find any citizens in the streets, you bring them to the Crown and Lion and get them into the smuggler’s cove.”

“We’ll help too, Chief Constable, if that’s okay. We can bring people to the inn. It’s the least we can do after all the trouble we've caused.”

Aidan turned to see two men. He recognized them from the Crown and Lion, the two who were always bickering about who would win in a fight between Andraste and the archdemon and other nonsense. More often drunk than not they were but they looked pretty damned sober at the moment and he’d take it.

“Fine. Do that,” he said, and then turn back to them, realization suddenly dawning on him. “I suggest you start with the Revered Mother and Melisse. After all the trouble you’ve caused them I think you owe it to them.”

“Yes, Chief Constable, of course. We’ll go straight away.” 

Aidan turned back to his people, muttering under his breath. Percy raised an eyebrow at him and Jayne just shook her head. Damned Blight Orphans, he thought. At least they’ll be doing some good for once.

“Alright people. We don’t have much time. You know what to do.”

They were interrupted by a giant fireball arching through the sky. It slammed into one of the guard towers, exploding the stone and mortar. Stone and fire fell from the sky as people started running. 

The next few hours was a blur of blood and fire. They would vanquish one group of darkspawn only for another to appear. And then another. From time to time he saw other groups fighting, some winning, some losing. He saw Sergeant Wilson swinging his broadsword, cutting a path through any darkspawn that dared confront him. He saw Burroughs cackling madly as she danced around a trio of genlocks, sinking her blades into one and then beheading another. The third took off running but didn’t make it far before arrows with black fletching sprouted on its back.

And everywhere there were people, his people. They ran through the streets, some in panic, some in determination. True to their word, he saw the two Blight Orphans bringing people to the Crown and Lion. He prayed that the darkspawn hadn’t found the other entrance. In retrospect he should have had it sealed.

Something roared behind him and the very ground beneath his feet shook. Aidan turned, blood dripping from his sword. A giant shadow blocked out the fading sun, the ogre’s giant horns piercing the sky, its armor clanking against itself. What madman had decided that armoring an ogre was a good idea? Their hide was damn near impenetrable as it was and, to make sure that they were really, really dead, you needed to destroy their hearts and burn their carcasses. It was the only way to be sure.

Jayne stood next to him, her face covered in soot and blood and looking just as worn as he felt. Percy and Leena were there too. Percy’s shield had a crack down the middle while Leena’s armor looked as if it had been set on fire. His sister also bore a gash across her jaw, the wound crawling down her face, fresh blood painting her face.

“First those giant bug things and now an ogre?”

“Not just an ogre, Jayne, what in the Maker’s name is that?” 

Leena pointed to a figure standing just to the side of the giant ogre. It looked like an emissary but more twisted if that was possible. Black markings covered its face

“It appears the Maker has a sick sense of humor,” Jayne grumbled as she gripped her sword and pushed her left foot back, setting herself up for another round. 

“I don’t think the Maker has anything to do with this, Jayne,” Aidan said, readying his own sword. “This abomination needs to fall. It’s commanding the rest of the darkspawn, I've seen it. We destroy this foul beast and the city just might be saved.”

“Don’t forget about the big fucking giant ogre, brother dear.”

Aidan glanced over at his sister, saw the faint smile on her face. After so many years of scowls and dark looks aimed at him it was strange. Strange but heartening.

“No, we couldn’t possibly forget the giant ogre, sister mine,” he replied. “Would that we had a mage. Sword and steel alone will not easily pierce that armor.”

“Did someone call for a mage? I hear they’re all the rage nowadays. _Very_ popular with Templars especially.”

Aidan turned to see the blonde mage that had been one of the Warden-Commander’s companions. The man looked a little worse for wear, tired and worn, his robes near ragged in places. Would he really be able to fight?

“I know what you’re thinking. I look like something that came out of the ass end of a nug but I've been through worse. Trust me.”

“I don’t have time to figure that out right now, mage. We need to kill that creature and the ogre, and fast.”

“Oh, silly me. I’m Anders. Pleased to meet you. Now, shall we save the jewel of the north or not?”

No sooner than had Anders spoken than the ogre charged. Aidan had to tumble out of the way to avoid the beast. Scrambling to his feet he found himself facing the deformed darkspawn. He could hear the others battling the giant ogre behind him, most definitely occupied. He was on his own.

Aidan could swear that the creature was _smiling_ at him as they faced off. A sharp angled glyph surrounded the beast, ready to trap any who got too close. Circling the darkspawn, Aidan searched for a weak point, bringing up his shield to block a blast of electricity. He dug his boots in the ground as the blast pushed him back several feet. Shaking it off and pushing past the drain on his energy, Aidan continued circling, looking for an opening. 

The darkspawn let out an ugly laugh, blasting him again with a jolt of electricity followed quickly by a stream of acid. Even through his gauntlet Aidan could feel his shield grow hot, the metal starting to melt under the continuous assault of the darkspawn’s magic. Stepping back, he pulled his arm out of the enarmes and gripped the shield at its edge, hurling it at the darkspawn. It howled as the shield cut into its neck, black ichor spurting out. 

With its magic interrupted, the darkspawn’s protection glyph failed. Aidan charged forward, swinging his sword down, satisfaction blooming in him as he separated the darkspawn’s head from its body. One down, one to go.

Turning, Aidan ran back to where the others were battling the ogre. Yes, one to go but it was a fucking big one.

He swung his sword at the back of its leg, aiming to cut the tendons there. His blade barely sliced through the ogre’s skin. All it really seemed to do was to make it angry. The beast turned and Aidan was forced to scramble away. Ice engulfed the ogre, slowing its movements and allowing Aidan to slide in behind it and sink his blade into its leg, effectively hamstringing it. The ogre roared in pain, the sound ringing in Aidan’s ears. 

He stumbled back, the ground shaky under his feet, so distracted that he didn’t see the ogre’s arm swing out. Suddenly he was flying through the air, landing against something hard. He felt something crack and shift in his chest and felt the metallic taste of blood rise in his throat. Spitting out a large wad of blood, Aidan pushed himself up in time to see Percy charging recklessly at the ogre.

“Percy, no!”

The man either didn’t or couldn’t hear him, either way it was too late as the ogre grabbed him up and shook him like a ragdoll.

“Oi! Shitface, why don’t you suck on a fireball?”

Anders sent a blast of fire that hit the ogre in the head, knocking off its helm and scorching its face. The ogre roared in pain, dropping Percy before clutching its face. Something flashed through the air. A volley of arrows came from one of the rooftops, piercing the ogre’s rough hide at its neck. The ogre tried to swat them away but they were too deeply embedded. 

Aidan charged forward, pressing his attack, taking advantage of its distraction. He ducked under one of the ogre’s arms and sank his blade into a chink of its armor. The beast roared again but he hung on, twisting the blade back and forth. He heard footfalls behind him and was pushed into the beast’s stomach when someone used him as a stepping stool.

Blood rained down on him. Looking up he saw his sister, hanging from her twin blades, both of which were sheathed to the hilt in the ogre’s chest. The beast stumbled backwards and Aidan was forced to let go of his sword. He watched as it landed heavily on its back with Leena still clinging to its chest. She pulled her blades out and then rammed them in again, this time into its heart. 

Aidan waited a heartbeat, and then another, and another. He was about to step forward when Leena pulled out her blades and reached into the ogre’s chest. Her hand came out bloody, the pulpy mess of the ogre’s heart in her hand. She tossed it to the side before clambering off the dead beast.

“Who _is_ that marvelous creature and please tell me she’s single.”

“She would be my sister and I wouldn't even go there.”

“Ookay. Gotcha. Don’t piss off big brother. Still, that was pretty amazing. And so is she,” Anders said, his voice filled with reverence.

“Yeah, she is,” Aidan replied as he watched Leena approach them. Blood splattered and covered with gore and she was still the brightest thing on the battlefield. Everything about her glowed. 

“You’re insane, you know that right?”

Leena looked over her shoulder at the dead ogre and merely shrugged at him, a small smile quirking up the corners of her mouth. Brief as it was, it was the friendliest conversation they’d had in years, bringing back memories of the banter they had once shared. Perhaps a reconciliation wasn't out of the question after all.

“Well then, are we done here?”

Aidan looked over the town. Just as he had suspected, once the darkspawn commander had fallen, the lesser darkspawn started to flee. He started to smile but it was wiped from his face when he saw Percy with Jayne leaning over him. Leena followed his gaze and he watched as all the light fled from her.

“No. No, no, no.”

She dropped to his side, clutching his hand in hers. “Percy, no. Why did you have to be so brave, you stupid idiot?”

Aidan dropped to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. He watched as his friend struggled for breath and felt something tear within him.

“Let me see him,” Anders said gently. “I may wield a wicked fire ball but I’m more of a healer. I may be able to help.”

Several minutes passed that seemed like hours as Anders knelt next to Percy, a blue glow emanating from his hands. Eventually he lifted his head, his brown eyes soft and gentle.

“He’s not dead, not yet. I can help him but not out here. I need someplace with water--. Is it getting brighter out?”

Aidan looked up and saw that indeed the day was getting brighter, but it was not the sun lighting the way. He watched, horrified, as a giant wave of flame rolled up the hill towards them. They were in a back alley at the city gates, there was nowhere for them to run.

“That bastard set the city to flame anyway. We’re trapped here.”

“Ser, the--,” Percy coughed, blood dribbling from his nose and leaking from his ears..

“Quiet you, it’ll be okay,” Leena told him though her sincerity fell flat.

“No, the door. There. To the cove.” Percy struggled with his mangled arm and pointed to the building to their left. The second entrance. Maybe they weren't dead after all.

“Cove? What cove?” 

“No questions, mage. Just help me move him. You need a place to heal him, a place with water, I've got one. We just need to get him inside and us away from that firestorm. Jayne.”

“Got it. Way ahead of you.” 

With some effort Leena and Anders carried Percy between them. Aidan trailed behind, the tightness in his chest growing. They all followed Jayne into the abandoned house. There they found a trapdoor not unlike the one that was in the Crown and Lion, except this one was locked.

“Fire and damnation. It’s locked. Don’t supposed any of you can pick locks?” Jayne asked wearily.

Before anyone could answer, Aidan heard the lock mechanism disengage and the door swing open. A face peered out of the darkness, a face he recognized.

“Jasper? What are you doing here?”

“Chief Constable? I, I was just trying to, that is, I heard voices and thought someone might need help.”

Aidan stared the boy down, his earnest face looking up at him. “Move out of the way, son. We need to get into the cove. Fire is overtaking the city and the cove is the only safe place left.”

The boy hesitated for a moment longer before nodding and disappearing back down the ladder. 

“Aidan?”

“Yes, Jayne. I know.”

“Am I missing something here?”

“Don’t worry about it, just get in the hole.”

“Oh, if only I had a sovereign for every time someone said that to me,” Anders said as he climbed down the ladder. Jayne and Aidan carefully lowered Percy down with Leena following after him. Aidan stood there with Jayne for a moment, even though they didn’t have one, just thinking

“Do you really think?”

“I don’t want to but who else would know about this entrance? Any of the other constables down there would keep everyone together, not go wandering off, and even if one of them did...” Aidan paused before continuing, his voice barely more than a whisper. “He had a key Jayne.”

“Yes, he did.”

Aidan sighed, suddenly feeling very old. “Let’s go talk to him.”

“Talk?”

“At first yes. After that, well, that will be up to him.”

They found Jasper hovering around the tunnel entrance to the cove. Anders and Leena had moved Percy into the main chamber. Aidan could see the soft light of his healing magic and only prayed that he could save his friend. Turning to Jasper, he wasn't so sure he what he was praying for.

“Jasper.”

The kid jumped even though he had to have heard them coming. His eyes were wide and darted back and forth. That’s when Aidan knew for certain that Jasper was the one they were looking for.

“Is the First Sergeant going to be okay? He looked like he was hurting a lot.”

 _Not smart kid_ , he thought. _Not smart at all._

“The healer’s working with him now, never you mind that. We need to talk Jasper.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Jasper barreled through them, shoving Aidan into the wall and started to run back down the tunnel. Why did they always run?

Jayne took after him, taking him down with a flying tackle. She pressed his face into the floor, grinding his skin against the stone until it started to turn red.

Aidan slowly crouched next to them, taking care not to move too suddenly, and angled his head so that he could see Jasper’s face. Snot bubbled out of the boy’s nose and mixed with the blood on the floor.

“Why did you do it, Jasper? Why did you betray the oath you took when you joined the Constabulary?”

“Oath? What a fucking joke. The joke’s on you. My da _put_ me here. The only oath I hold sacred is the one to my family.”

“Oh, I’m not to sure about the strength your belief in that oath either, Jasper,” Jayne growled as she pushed his face harder against the floor. “I’m beginning to think that the only thing you believe in is yourself. Why else kill all your friends?”

“That was to protect me and my da. They would have talked. They would have and I couldn’t let that happen.”

“Your da’s dead, Jasper.”

The kid went wild at that, nearly knocking Jayne off of him. His head swinging back and smashing into Jayne’s nose. Blood spurted out of her nose, spraying all over. Swearing heavily, she slammed his head back into the ground with such force that she knocked him unconscious.

“Little bastard.”

“You okay?”

“Me, yeah. I’ll live. All this blood and crap is going to be a bitch to get out. Kara’s like to toss me into the harbor before--.” Jayne’s eyes went wide, horror washing over her face.

“Go Jayne, go find her. I’ll wait here with the little prick.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Go. Give her a hug from me as well.”

Aidan watched as Jayne ran back to the cove and heard her shouting her wife’s name. He waited until she was out of sight before slumping against the tunnel wall and letting gravity have its way with him. The weight of the day pressed in on him. He was only forty-one but he felt positively ancient. Now that he was still for more than a minute, the pain came rushing back in. Something in his gut had shifted when Jasper had rammed him into the wall, pushing the pain deeper and making it difficult to breathe. Groaning, he rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes. He just needed a minute, just a minute.

That was how Jayne and Leena found him half an hour later. Jayne had found Kara covered in soot but otherwise okay and tending to those who weren't so lucky. Leena had been persuaded to leave Percy’s side as he rested, Anders telling her to go rest herself. Jasper was still there, drooling onto the floor. Nathaniel Howe crouched next to Aidan, his hand resting on his forehead. The Little Wolf stood three steps behind them, a hood covering her face but they all could hear the soft sound of her crying.

Nathaniel looked up, his face drawn. “I’m sorry.”


	5. Epilogue

The fire burned for three days and nights before a soft rain from the south finally helped put out the flames. Two weeks had passed since the darkspawn attack and slowly the town came back to life. Those who had taken refuge in the cove were best able to help, having been able to avoid the worst of the battle and the fire. Many hadn’t been so lucky.

The market had been completely gutted. Nothing but ash remained of the stalls. The Chantry had fared a little better; fire marked its walls inside and out but the statue of Andraste had endured, still standing in the courtyard watching out over the city. There was some delicious irony in there somewhere Jayne was sure. The Guard House with its thick stone walls had stood strong, taking only minimal damage. Its walls still stood but there was much rebuilding to be done.

Jayne stood in the Chief Constable’s office, staring out the window. Smoke still curled up to the sky in certain areas of the city but the skies were mostly clear now. She could see the docks from here. Half had succumbed to the flames, the other half saved by sailors and their captains. They had also saved hundreds of people who were trying to escape the flames and the darkspawn, letting them seek refuge on their ships. All told, the damage and loss of life wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but those losses were very keen.

“Chief Constable.”

Jayne started, not having heard anyone enter. She turned toward the voice and saw Nathaniel Howe step forward out from the shadows. How did he do that?

“The Dark Wolf, come to visit me. Interesting.”

Nathaniel pulled back his hood and came to stand next to her at the window. He looked out over the city, much as she had just been doing, but what he saw he kept to himself.

“I came to apologize,” he said softly.

“Apologize? For what? You couldn’t have stopped this. No one could.”

“But I could have intervened sooner. Things might have turned out differently if I had.”

“There’s no way to know that.”

“Even so, I still offer them.”

They stood there, silently for several minutes, neither of them speaking. The rain was moving off, making way for the sun. Light splintered through the clouds, striking against the charred city. The sounds of hammers and saws floated up. Workers shouted at each other as some carted off debris and others brought in building materials.

“It will take a while, but the city would rebuild. Its people will endure. That’s what he wanted. That’s all he wanted. And they’ll get that chance. Thanks to you, Nathaniel.”

“And to him.”

“Yes, and to him, the sodding bastard. He’s laughing at me now, I know it. He knows that I never wanted this office, not like this.”

“If he’s laughing it’s because he knows that any criminals in this city don’t stand a chance with you at the helm.”

“Ha!” Jayne snorted. She turned to him, her head cocked to one side. “And what about you? What are you and your Little Wolf going to do now?”

“Oh, I think we’ll hang around for a little while yet. Might be that we’ll head up to Kirkwall one of these days.”

“Or you could stay here. Rumor has it that the Warden-Commander has left. Amaranthine might soon be in need of a leader.”

“No, no titles for the likes for me. I’ve found my own way of helping people. It suits me.”

Jayne looked at him again, seeing a calm peacefulness falling over his sharp-angled face. “Yes, I suppose it does.”

“You’ll do fine here, Chief Constable. Just fine. But if you should ever need my help--.”

“What? Light a fire on top of the Guard House? Probably not the best idea.”

Nathaniel laughed. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Jayne turned back to the window, looking out at the city once more. She didn’t hear him leave but she felt his absence all the same. 

“Yes, I’m sure I’ll think of something.”


End file.
